


Gravitational Pull

by Gotcocomilk



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Season/Series 05, Pre-Season/Series 06, Scent Kink, Seduction, because that will be relevant soon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 04:17:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14926992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gotcocomilk/pseuds/Gotcocomilk
Summary: The first hint of attraction claws firmly into place when Shiro notices the smell— a heady mix of wood smoke and chocolate, curling together into one sultry aroma. It permeated his body, raced through his blood like flame, and clouded his mind with a fog of lust. Undeniably masculine and infuriatingly enticing, it was the kind of scent that drives a man to distraction.  And distraction was the last thing Shiro needed when facing off against Lotor.Well. That may be a lie. The first hint of attraction is no hint at all, but a bayard to the gut, stunning Shiro into momentary silence. Lotor is a mesmerizing man— otherworldly and radiant as a binary star. With purple skin and long white hair, the prince stood out against any backdrop, let alone the drab interior of a cell.This… may be a bigger issue than Shiro had originally thought.





	Gravitational Pull

The first hint of attraction claws firmly into place when Shiro notices the smell— a heady mix of wood smoke and chocolate, curling together into one sultry aroma. It permeated his body, raced through his blood like flame, and clouded his mind with a fog of lust. Undeniably masculine and infuriatingly enticing, it was the kind of scent that drives a man to distraction.And distraction was the last thing Shiro needed when facing off against Lotor.

 

Well. That may be a lie. The first hint of attraction is no hint at all, but a bayard to the gut, stunning Shiro into momentary silence. Lotor is a mesmerizing man— otherworldly and radiant as a binary star. With purple skin and long white hair, the prince stood out against any backdrop, let alone the drab interior of a cell.

 

This… may be a bigger issue than Shiro had originally thought.

 

Regardless, the smell is what first tips him off to the _possibility_ — turning his gaze from appreciative to lustful, setting his blood ablaze and mind racing.

 

The attraction only grows worse with exposure— for the duration of Lotor’s brief stint as a prisoner of Voltron, Shiro’s restraint and self-control are tested, time and time again. These are tests he barely passes.

 

The worst part is it is his own fault— _Shiro_ was the one who suggested restricting access to Lotor. _Shiro_ was the one who took it upon himself to care for the prince. _Shiro_ was the one with a boner that could cut through a particle barrier.

 

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the other paladins with a prisoner— it was that he didn’t trust them with a Galra. Courageous and brilliant as they all were — strong of heart and loyalty both— they were unused to the mind games of the indominable species. Someone of Lotor’s talents could coax out information with the precision of a scalpel.

 

There was a small, vindictive piece of Shiro that wanted to make Lotor _suffer_. But that was _The Champion_ talking—the same version of Shiro that had fought in the ring, survived on scraps of sleep and barely sustainable amounts of food. It was the Shiro that hurt one of his closest friends. It was the portion of himself that Shiro despised.

 

But beyond even that, there was a fragment of Shiro that was fresh caught—bound and afraid, tucked deep in the bowels of a Galra warship to rot. He had been broken— granted, he pieced himself together, all the stronger and more resilient for it— but still. The idea of imprisoning anyone made his skin crawl. If they had to— for the good of the Voltron Alliance— he would damn well ensure the captive was well-cared for. It had proved a surprisingly pleasant task— the prince was a model prisoner, clearly trying to win his captors’ trust.

 

But even Lotor’s perpetual politeness and stalwart talk of peace faltered in the face of boredom. Confined to a small space, and with little to do, Lotor turned to a logical outlet— exercise. He began to routinely strip out of his armor, leaving only a tight bodysuit behind, and run a gamut of body-weight exercises. Some of these were startlingly familiar, but others were clearly alien, working muscles no human possessed.

 

The net result was that one particular afternoon Shiro opened the door to Lotor’s cell and was hit with a wave of concentrated, potent, _Lotor_. The paladin’s eyes fluttered shut under the blast, and without thinking he inhaled deeply.

 

That was possibly the worst thing he could’ve done.

 

“Can I help you, paladin?”

 

Cheeks coloring, Shiro’s eyes snapped open. Had he just been standing there, sniffing? That was not only humiliating, but dangerous. In his distraction, Lotor could have pinned him to a wall, or forced him to the ground, trapped between the taller man’s powerful thighs, completely at his mercy.

 

_Dear god, Takashi, get a grip._

 

Putting his attention fully on the Galra, Shiro felt his blood rush downwards. Lotor was standing a few feet away, glistening with sweat in a body suit that did nothing to hide the lean muscle covering his tall frame; the body of a warrior, well-used and loose from exercise.

 

The prince was clearly waiting for a reply, head tilted and long white hair draped artfully over one shoulder. That was a shame, because Shiro was positive he no longer had any blood in his brain to answer with. After a few precious seconds, Lotor’s lips began to pull into a smirk, and he took a step closer.

 

Shiro’s response was calm, honorable, and befitting a Paladin of Voltron— he bolted.

 

Slamming the locking mechanism behind him, he took a few deep breaths— blessedly clear of that mind-numbingly pleasant smell— and walked away from the cell. The tattered scraps of his dignity fluttered behind him.

 

* * *

 

Shiro spent the next week avoiding Lotor whenever possible. He delegated what duties he could to Hunk; his conscience twinged a little at the shirking of duty, but it was for the best. He thought of the corded muscle under velvety purple skin and shuddered. Definitely for the best.

 

Still— he checked in on Lotor at least once a day, out of concern. Only concern, he told himself.

 

 

 

Lotor spent the next week tripling the amount of exercise he did each day. Every time Shiro walked into the spacious room holding his cell, the captive was mid-crunch, or with his feet up in the air doing slow and measured handstand-push-ups. To add insult to injury, the prince began to strip down to the waist. The way sweat dripped down his back was _mesmerizing_.

 

That week, Shiro learned new lessons in the arts of patience, holding his breath, and cold showers. But Lotor said nothing to Shiro beyond intel on the Galra, so the paladin was determined to ignore the issue.

 

Avoidance worked decently well until the botched prisoner exchange. Lotor’s actions earned him the trust of the Voltron Alliance— and of Shiro himself. The prince had proven himself honest, though he had no illusions that the Galra was being totally forthright.

 

This was both a good and bad thing for Shiro’s… problem.

 

Lotor was a prisoner no more— the paladins had agreed to allow him free reign of the castle. Killing Zarkon earned him at least that much leeway. Shiro’s duty as warden was complete— he no longer needed to care for the prince— or even see him.

 

Or smell him, for that matter.

 

But Lotor was suddenly _everywhere_ — sitting distractingly close to the paladin at meals, leaning over him to discuss strategy, stepping out of the bathing pools— naked and _glistening—_ just as Shiro walked through the door. Nearly every waking moment Shiro spent with Lotor.

 

And the worst part was that Shiro couldn’t even bring himself to object to the company. Lotor was brilliant, with a sharp military mind that complemented Shiro’s own. He was also as much of a model guest as he was a prisoner, charming Hunk with compliments on his masterful cooking and engineering genius, laying the perfect amount of challenge in his voice when talking over a coding problem with Pidge, and snarking back and forth with Lance while trading the best skin-care techniques. He had even managed to get Keith to warm up to him— though Shiro still had no idea how that had happened. One day, Keith glared daggers at the prince, as was his usual, and the next, he had a perfectly civil discussion about swords with the man. It was unnerving.

 

As a whole, the team seemed _happier_ with Lotor around— content and cheery. Some of the atmosphere change was due to Zarkon’s death— certainly Shiro’s nightmares had eased since the mad Emperor fell. But a large portion was Lotor’s bone-deep certainty that the Galra Empire could be a force for good— molded and changed into something to help people. It was uplifting to see such a view from a former enemy.

 

There was only one drawback to having Lotor in the castle, at the black paladin’s side like he belonged there; where Lotor went, so did that damnable smell. Even Shiro’s _clothes_ had begun to reek of it, with the prince’s new habit of brushing up against him. Thick and virile, Lotor’s musk soaked into the air until Shiro couldn’t breathe without being left hard and aching.

 

…

 

This may have escalated from problem to catastrophe.

 

* * *

 

 

His only solace was the training room. Through blind chance or luck, Lotor had yet to discover the room. Shiro had taken to working through a few training levels when his thoughts wandered— or his attraction got the better of him.

 

That was where Shiro was— dodging hits from the gladiator with a blessedly empty mind—

when Lotor finally cornered him.

 

Rolling out of the way of a downward cleave, Shiro only vaguely registered the door opening. Brow furrowed in concentration, he snapped forward and ignited his arm to impale the opponent clean through the middle. There was a moment of crystal silence—broken only by light panting— before the gladiator dissolved back into the floor.

 

“End training sequence.” He huffed out a breath and turned to the door. Any looseness in his limbs vanished when he saw long white hair against a canvas of purple skin.

 

“That was masterfully done.” An elegant and arched brow accompanied the words, perfectly framing a devilish smile. “Not that I expected anything less from the Black Paladin.”

 

Still panting, Shiro moved towards Lotor. A smile came easily to his face— far easier than it would have a mere month ago. This man was burrowing under his skin, and Shiro couldn’t bring himself to mind. He stopped a few feet from the prince— any closer and he wouldn’t trust his frayed willpower to stop himself from doing something truly stupid.

 

“Thanks. Did you want to train? Room’s all yours, I’ve finished for the day.”

 

“No, I am not here to train.” For a moment, the prince was quiet, looking Shiro over with sharp eyes.

 

“I could tell you I want to spar. But that would be a lie.” He took a step forward, predatory and graceful. No small part of Shiro called for a strategic retreat, but there was nowhere to run— Lotor’s gaze had him pinned.

 

“I could tell you that I want to discuss strategy. That would also be a lie.” Another step.

 

“Or, I could tell you the truth, Takashi.” Shiro’s blood— still pounding from training— raced downwards. Lotor’s voice caressing his name— his given name, no less— echoed through his head. Something primal and possessive inside him purred.

 

_Takashi_

 

“What.” Shiro stalled, words elluding him. “What is the truth?”

 

When had Lotor gotten so close? With each inhale, their bodies brushed. The scrape of armor against cloth was loud in the large room. Air was suddenly hard to find— all of it had been replaced with Lotor’s particular perfume. Chocolate saturated every breath Shiro took. 

 

“I thought by now that would be obvious.” Hot air puffed over Shiro’s ear, and he shivered. “I would have sex with you.”

 

It all made sense. The smirking, the endless shirtless exercise, the constant company— Shiro was being _hunted_.

 

And Lotor had finally tired of waiting.

 

Shiro could have better resisted the drag of a tractor beam than that smirk.

 

So he didn’t. One motion had Lotor flush against his body, fingers clenching over firm muscle. He cut off a low chuckle with his lips, mouth pressed against a wicked purple grin. Lotor opened under him, slick and eager and tempting, tongue twining with Shiro’s in a deliriously hot slide.

 

Gasping, Shiro broke the kiss, breath harsh. A growl slipped out of Lotor’s lips as he pulled away; the sound vibrated through Shiro’s chest and he groaned. That sound— that possessive growl— did things to him. In refuge, Shiro buried his face in the crook of Lotor’s neck and inhaled. A rush of glorious smell wafted up, undeniably _Lotor_ , and a sliver of pleasure rolled down his spine like molten chocolate. His cock throbbed, growing hard where it was pressed against the prince’s hip.

 

“How do you smell so good?” Shiro groaned out, nipping at the enticing purple skin before him between words. He wondered how many marks he could leave before Lotor objected. Determined to find out, Shiro caught skin between his teeth and _sucked_. He was rewarded by a full body shudder and a harsh roll of hips against him, rock hard arousal a brand along Shiro’s hip. Thin claws ran up Shiro’s sides, leaving trails of sensation in their wake, and he had to resist the urge to _purr,_ spine arching into Lotor.

 

“Galra pheromones. I am surprised you can smell them. I thought the human sense of smell was poor.”

 

“Pheromones?” Shiro pulled his head back, hips moving sinuously, a rough grinding motion that let him feel every inch of Lotor’s arousal. With a groan, Lotor threaded his fingers in the back of Shiro’s hair and tugged. Shiro’s eyes fluttered shut and he let out a pleased noise at the pressure. Lotor smirked— pulled harder— and Shiro moaned.

 

“Galra secrete pheromones when they are near an… attractive partner. Unique to each Galra.” A tug in his hair left Shiro’s head tilted, neck vulnerable to the press of a hot mouth. “If the partner finds their pheromones compelling, the two are compatible.” Teeth nipped harshly at his jaw between words, moving up to tug an ear. A moan slipped from his lips, low and surprised.

 

“Is compatible code for they have great sex?” Shiro’s voice was playful, pants interspersed by breathy moans at particularly sharp bites.A dull ache was spreading across his neck like a constellation— that would bruise later.

 

_Good._

 

“No, it means they have fantastic sex.” With a wicked curve to his lips, Lotor grabbed the zipper of Shiro’s bodysuit and pulled. Agonizingly slowly, he kissed down Shiro’s chest, mouth engine-hot on sensitive skin, and sunk down to the ground. Shiro _burned_ at the sight— the proud Galra prince, kneeling before him. Shiro would take this image with him to the cold black of the grave.

 

Without thinking, he reached forward, cradling a purple cheek in one hand and stroking over a strong cheekbone, rubbing across full lips. Sultry eyes held his own as Lotor sucked Shiro’s thumb into the hot press of his mouth, tongue moving sensually against the digit.God, what Shiro would give to have sink into that heat, feel those lips around his cock, watch those eyes flutter— the Black Lion seemed a fair exchange, right? Maybe the Galra empire would be more fitting.

 

“Lotor.” Shiro gently pulled Lotor to his crotch, shedding his bodysuit in one smooth motion. His cock jutted up, thick and flushed, from a hairless groin. Taking himself in hand, Shiro couldn’t resist a few slow strokes, shivering as smooth metal rubbed down the curve of his cock. Lotor’s eyes tracked the movement, _hungry_.“Suck me?”

 

“Would I have another reason to be on my knees?” Lotor quipped, already palming Shiro’s cock. For a few thoughtful seconds he just rubbed up the side, exploring the heavy length. The touch was feather-light, teasing and languid. A large hand slide across the expanse of his ass, firm grip a sharp contrast to the gentle strokes across his cock. A squeeze drew a soft moan out of Shiro, as sharp claws pricked the swell of his ass, possessive and claiming.

 

And damn if Shiro didn't _want_ to be claimed.

 

The tip of Shiro’s cock slipped against warm lips— hot breath prickling the sensitive skin— and his hips jerked forward. “Stop teasing.” A tug to white hair underlined his point, but just Lotor huffed out an amused sound.

 

“But you moan so beautifully. How can I resist?” Lotor drew a finger down the crack of Shiro’s ass, mouthing at the tip of the cock before him. Shiro groaned, bucking his hips forward while a shiver of want crawled up his spine from the press of claw.

 

Shiro leveled a bleary glare at the prince. “You are Galra— you should be good at resisting temptation.”If Lotor didn’t move soon, Shiro would take matters into his own hands— literally.

 

“Oh, but I am a spoiled prince, remember? I always… indulge myself. But I’d hate to disappoint, so—” In one smooth motion, Lotor swallowed Shiro’s cock and _hummed_ , tongue swirling around the sensitive head. Shiro cried out, knees going weak— he hadn’t expected Lotor to stop teasing so _quickly._ He threaded his hands in long hair for stability, tugging at the silky strands. This was clearly the right thing to do— Lotor moaned around his cock and sunk down to the hilt, strained lips pressed to Shiro’s groin.

 

_Fuck._ Shiro’s mind whited out, arousal lasering through him as that _hot, slick, princely_ throat fluttered. He could feel desperate licks along the bottom of his cock, needy and purposeful in equal measure, as Lotor sucked down his cock like it was candy. Shiro was drowning in sensation, and the view only made it worse— lips pale and obscenely stretched around a dick, hair disheveled. Shiro had to close his eyes against the sight. Embarrassingly soon, he felt a tightening in his stomach and tugged at Lotor’s hair. He didn’t want to cum yet, not before he’d gotten a chance to explore that expanse of purple skin, feel that cock deep inside him, forcing him open, _conquering_ him. Or fuck into Lotor, pull moans from the prince and watch him go glassy eyed from pleasure—

 

Only a quick hand at the base of his cock stopped him from cumming then and there.

 

Slowly, Lotor pulled off. A string of precum dripped from swollen purple lips, and he looked every bit the ravished exotic beauty. Until he smirked— then Shiro felt the prey, rather than the predator.

 

“Why stop?” The words were hoarse, and Shiro twitched— _he_ had done that. Lotor’s voice was a gravely wreck from panting around _his_ cock. Shiro groaned and tightened the grip around his dick.

 

“I don’t want to cum yet.”

 

Lotor tilted his head curiously. “Can humans only orgasm once?”

 

“More than once, but not too many times in a row. And it takes time to get hard between orgasms.”

 

“Inconvenient, but not irreparable.” The prince hummed thoughtfully. “We will have to prevent that for a while, then. We are not even close to done.”

 

Anticipation flooded Shiro. “Good.”

 

Lotor rose to his feet with a cat’s grace and began pulling off his clothes. Shiro reached to help, fingers skimming the other man’s skin. Need was still coursing through his veins, but it had died down to something more manageable— a mere simmer to the earlier boil. He was content to take his time exploring Lotor— breathing in his heady scent— and running dull nails down his chest. A pinch to a dark purple nipple sent a shudder through Lotor’s body, so Shiro repeated the experiment, tweaking and twisting until the prince had given up disrobing and was leaning against Shiro for support.

 

“Sensitive.” Shiro leaned down to nip at the abused nipple, teeth sharp against the peaked skin. Lotor jolted, muttering a string of Galra curses Shiro recognized from his days in the arena.

 

“It is a particular weak point for Galra.” Shiro purred and continued his ministrations— encouraged by increasingly harsh pants and low moans— until the prince pulled away.

 

“I dislike still being clothed.” It took Lotor only a moment to finish stripping, but the sight of him _bare_ —

 

The prince was beautiful— that was clear, and something Shiro had expected. No, it was the massive cock—tall and proud, a royal purple, wider than any human cock Shiro had ever seen, let alone _taken_ —that distracted him.His mouth felt gummy and dry. The smell— that damned musk— was twice as strong, curling into his thoughts.

 

Shiro wanted that monster in him. No, he _needed_ it.

 

“Fuck me.” The words slipped from Shiro’s lips without permission, hot and smoldering in the sudden silence. He almost didn’t recognize his own voice, raw and hoarse as it was.

 

Lotor’s eyes darkened, and he sucked in a harsh breath. “I would love to have you.” Shiro watched, mesmerized as Lotor trailed a hand down his chest. “Take you long and slow. I’d fuck into you for hours, until you begged me to stop, shaking and coming apart on my cock. And then I’d keep going, until you were soaked in my scent and everyone would know you were _mine_.”

 

An ache in Shiro’s lungs made him inhale sharply. When had he stopped breathing? He couldn’t recall, the burning of his lungs matched by the overwhelming tide of lust washing over him. That domineering tone pleased a part of Shiro, stoking a bestial need to be _claimed_. He thought he might be able to come from Lotor’s voice alone.

 

But the prince wasn’t done.

 

“You’d feel me for hours, perhaps even days. It would take a while to open you up wide enough, though— I am far from small, even by Galra standards.” Lotor shook his head.

 

“No, I think I will have you another way today.” A hard shove took Shiro unawares, and he landed on his back, legs falling open and dick bouncing against the hard planes of his stomach. Lotor followed him down, firm thighs straddling his hips. The prince rolled, slow and enticing, across Shiro’s groin.

 

“I trust you have no objections?”

 

Shiro was distracted by how perfect the fit of his cock was, nestled between the cheeks of Lotor’s ass. It took a precious few heartbeats before he registered Lotor’s words, but he couldn’t really be blamed— surely at this point there was more blood in his dick than in the rest of his body combined.

 

“At this point, I’d object if you stop.”

 

A devilish grin slid across Lotor’s face, and he reached back to grip Shiro’s cock in a firm hand, guiding it towards his entrance.

 

Shiro stopped him, fingers flexing against taut purple skin— “Wait!”

 

Lotor paused, thighs tensing around Shiro’s hips. He could feel the tip of his cock pressing against an inviting hole, and he had to resist the urge to thrust up. Lotor wore a nonplused expression, clearly confused. “You are objecting _now_?”

 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

Lotor threw back his head and laughed, body shaking with mirth. “Oh, Takashi. You truly are a treasure. Worry not paladin— I am not a patient man, so I prepared myself.” Shiro’s concern evaporated in a cloud of lust— Lotor prepared _himself_? Had the prince been knuckle deep and shaking just moments earlier? Shiro knew how unsatisfying the press of your own hand was— had Lotor grown frustrated? Used a toy? Lubed up and sunk down on a dildo until he was _sure_ he could fit Shiro’s cock?

 

Shiro was officially ruined for anyone else.

 

The arch of Lotor’s spine as he slowly settled down on Shiro’s cock— sinking all the way to the base in one slow, controlled motion— was pure poetry. He let out a low moan as he was filled, mouth quirking into a distracted smile. Shiro couldn’t even speak, both from the earlier words and the sensation around his cock. The slide in had been slick, hot, and almost unbearably pleasurable; he wasn’t sure he could hold off his orgasm for long. He gripped the purple thighs straddling him and was surprised to find them shaking slightly. Perhaps Lotor was not as cavalier about this as he tried to be.

 

“So confident I’d say yes?” Shiro’s voice hitched as Lotor moved his hips in a sinuous circle, clearly trying to get used to the sensation of being filled. He struggled to keep still, letting Lotor adjust to being speared by a cock. The scent of sex mingled with the uniquely _Lotor_ smell, permeating the air and making the Shiro’s dick twitch. He shuddered.

 

“Not completely sure, but confident enough.” Lotor leveled a heavy-lidded glare at Shiro. “Now fuck me.”

 

Shiro did not need to be told twice. 

 

 

 

 


End file.
